


Glorified Babysitters

by Nyxed



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff plain and simple., Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2041362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxed/pseuds/Nyxed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>( A fluffy oneshot ) </p><p>Lydia talked the pack into giving him a promotion of sorts. One that helps appease his alpha personality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glorified Babysitters

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on a rather angst-y and depressing Pydia fic at the moment ( which I hope to post the first chapter of soon! ) and I just needed to take a break. Not write something so dark or emotional. I don't usually write fluff, I think in total I've written only 2 fluff pieces since I started writing. This includes both fiction and non-fiction work. 
> 
> I just wanted to write something happy involving my current #1 duo. Also this wasn't beta'd so sorry about that :c

 

“All of this is ours.” Peter all but puffed out his chest. There was a certain pride attached to his voice. One that came when a wolf got free reign over a territory.  
  
“It is the pack’s,” Lydia corrected with a smug look. “You are a glorified babysitter.”  
  
He pretended to look hurt. Of course, she was right. This wasn’t his land, it belonged to the ever-growing McCall pack now. He was something of an ambassador. Neither welcoming nor friendly were words anyone would ever willingly use to describe him, but somehow he had gotten to job. “We are glorified babysitters.” He corrected, making Lydia roll her eyes.  
  
Scott wouldn’t have even considered it if Lydia hadn’t been with him. She’d argued his case for him, and ultimately she had won. As Lydia often did. It had been her idea to start with, he'd had no part in it. He hadn't even known it was a thought until they day that she'd come home and announced that they were moving.  
  
Still this was his own little domain. Their own little domain. He and Lydia now resided in a rather large 4 bedroom house, which had been marketed as an ' _excellent family home away from the hustle and bustle of the city.'_ It was not unlike the old Hale house in both as aesthetics and placement. He supposed, that was what drew him to it in the first place. Lydia had amazingly agreed; of course saying that she could renovate the house as she wanted with virtually no budget had helped sway her from all of the fancy lofts and condo's that she had found online.  
  
“So,” The Banshee cleared her throat. “Are we going to stay out here all night? I'm giving my first lecture in the morning and you know how I am if I don’t get my sleep…”  
  
Oh, that he did. Cranky, sleep deprived banshee’s were no fun.  
  
He didn’t look back at her, instead he was surveying the trees. “We have to mark the territory.” The look on Lydia’s face was one of complete disgust.  
  
“Do you need some privacy?”  
  
Peter grunted. “You have seen everything already.” He pointed out. It wasn’t anything so crude, anyways. He could have gone that route but given her current mood he doubted that Lydia would give him the assistance that those particular activities required.  
  
His eyes landed on a tree, it was large, no doubt hundreds of years old unlike those around it. With a low growl his nails turned into claws. Lydia moved towards him but he didn’t look back at her. He was completely focused on the tree.  
  
He extended his other hand, palm up. He trailed a claw across his palm, letting out a slight hiss as the skin separated. Once the blood began to pool his hand lashed out, claws sinking into the bark of the ancient tree before him. His claws sunk deep into the wood, blood smearing over the surface. It was a fairly unpleasant feeling, but it would heal in no time. He held his hand in place for a moment; as if to allow the blood to seep in. Then he pulled it back. He couldn’t help but smile as he eyed his good work.  
  
  
“Well, that was dramatic…” Lydia was looking at the torn up bark now, too. “Are we done here?” She obviously didn’t see it as the momentous occasion that he did; of course she was smart enough to recognize how important this was - but this was Lydia.  
  
  
She said nothing else as she walked over to him. Winding her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest. He went to return the embrace, mindful of his currently healing palm. If he got blood on her coat he would never hear the end of it.  
  
  
“Thank you.” The words rolled off his tongue easily, despite how infrequently he used that particular combination. Everything that he had in this world now, he had because of Lydia. He was fairly certain it warranted a _‘thank you’._ She didn’t verbalize a response but she looked up at him. He knew that she understood, she caught the depth of the words like no one else ever could have.

  
When he looked down at her something welled up inside of him. A feeling that he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was something similar to happiness.  
  
No, it was happiness. Not just something similar.  
  
For the first time in a very long time, Peter Hale was happy.


End file.
